


Give Your Heart a Break

by saunatonttu



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mentioned Abuse, Spoilers for secret endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunatonttu/pseuds/saunatonttu
Summary: You may be naive, but you're also unwilling to let things go to the direction they are going right now. For truth, you decide to meet up with V, despite the consequences this might have on your relationships with the RFA members. What you learn is this: behind that facade of aloofness, V is a deeply troubled person, very much like the rest of the RFA.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I initially intended to write the whole fic before posting it as a single oneshot, but that would have been ridiculously long and I won't have much time to work on this fic because of university, so I decided to post the bits that turned into the first chapter/prologue.
> 
> Spoilers for Seven's route and the secret endings!

You know it’s naive to believe in someone so blindly as you do in V, the person with whom you have only had a handful of conversations at best. It’s even more naïve when you see the rest of the RFA lose faith in him, save perhaps for Jaehee and Jumin. There’s no real good reason to justify the sweat gathering on your palms when you see the members renouncing their faith in V’s decisions. You should agree with them, logically that is the only right option.

But emotions are never that clear-cut, and in the first place it was your naivety that led you to the RFA chatroom.

So, when V texts you and asks you to come with him, you’re not about to say no when you can find the answers everyone else is looking for.

Knowing the men of the RFA, it will not be simple or easy on your heart, but it is the path you have chosen to take the moment V reached out to you in the early hours of the day.

*

**From: V**

_I’m sorry about what happened with Luciel in the chatroom. I don’t… know how to fix this, anymore. This is too much to ask, but would you meet me at the café near the apartment? I got back as soon as I was physically able…_

**Received: five minutes ago.**

Leaving the apartment when Seven’s still awake, although working, is difficult for many reasons, emotional attachment being only one of those. After all that has happened, this is a choice you can’t take lightly, you realize. Choosing the “wrong” side will undoubtedly have repercussions, perhaps permanent ones.

But you can’t leave things as they are, and you know you wouldn’t be able to convince Seven to talk things out with V at this point. Things have escalated beyond the boiling point, now. The kettle has exploded.

You can’t pick up the pieces for Seven’s shattered trust in V, but you can try to gain as complete summary of the situation as possible from V himself.

So that’s why you will leave the apartment and the safety system behind; there must an unimaginable truth behind this.

Either that, or you’re making the biggest mistake of your miserably sheltered life.

*

You’re shivering by the time you get to the café as you couldn’t bring your jacket with him as Seven may have placed something on it so that he’ll always know your location even if you leave the apartment without his knowledge.

You have seen pictures of V before. Zen gave you one before where he stood with V and Rika, though the latter two looked much happier than Zen in it.

The turquoise hair is more than enough to recognize him from the crowded café, not to mention that it’s his table for two that has any space left for you.

An exhale stutters past your lips, which rise into a tentative smile as you approach him while dodging the backs of chairs on the way.

“V,” you breathe, “you really came.”

V stands up to push the chair out for you, half-leaning on a cane as he does so. You try to protest, but he has none of it, smiling indulgently at you – but it’s a smile that makes you think V’s really not there at all.

“I did say so,” V responds as he settles back down, setting the cane beside his chair and then pushing up his glasses. Sunglasses or…? You have heard something happened to his eyes, but… “Though I suppose my word on anything hardly counts anymore.”

His fingers fiddle with the frame of his glasses, hesitating for a moment before tugging them off.

His eyes…

“Your eyes… they really aren’t in good shape…” you whisper, your fingers clenching on your lap into the fabric of your blouse. “Jumin mentioned you never went to the eye doctor he suggested. Why—“

“Ah, Jumin mentioned that?” V’s lips curl up, a weak pretense of amusement. “He worries too much. It’s not quite as bad as it looks.”

He’s really bad at lying face-to-face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” V continues, the strained tension around his eyes easing as he chuckles. Despite that, he looks tired and guarded, a complete opposite of how you pictured him based on his chatroom appearances. “It is kind of you to worry, but…this is my burden to bear.”

“Didn’t you come here to tell me everything?” you ask, nervous. V pushes the plate before him towards you – there’s an uneaten muffin on it. Chocolate chip muffin, your favourite.

“Yes,” V says, slowly and with a troubled look re-emerging onto his face. “But I wish to spare you the, ah, gory details… as well as to suggest a more private place to discuss this as we can’t go to my house due to… reasons.”

“Reasons,” you repeat, your expression as deadpan as your voice.

V’s lips curl, his nostrils flare; he heaves out a sigh and looks away. The scars over his eyes look older than you expected. “I think my apartment is… under surveillance of people who may put you and the RFA in danger if I slip up.”

His voice is hard to hear over the clatter of the café, but you can read his lips well enough to understand.

“So you can’t go home? How long have you lived like this?” You recall the phone Seven had prepared for V, the one with the bug detector that had seemed like an exaggerated move at the time.

“You should eat that,” V speaks up, louder, points at the muffin again. “Perhaps I should order you some tea to go with it…”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, reaching for his hand before he stands up. It’s a small thing, but you can’t afford to give him more to feel burdened by. “The apartment is, of course, no-no since Seven’s there, so should we go to a park, then? The one near my parents’ house is quiet and there shouldn’t be people around now.”

V, who has started picking up his cane, halts his movements when your hand meets his, and his posture stiffens before returning to his previous position on the chair. “If you’re all right with it, then yes. I… am sorry I can’t get straight to the point like I intended.”

Looking at his face, unreadable as it is, you feel it again. The intuitive sensation of some terrible thing haunting V’s decisions.

If something horrible is going to happen, it’s certainly not because V wills it.

*

**_707 has logged in._ **

**707:** She’s gone. I told her to tell me whenever she’s going somewhere, but she didn’t this time and

 **707:** she doesn’t have her jacket where I put the tracing device on and I don’t know what to do

 **707:** what do I do…………… argh why would she do this at a time like this!!!!

 **Jaehee Kang:** perhaps she went to get late lunch? I know you’re a horrible cook, Luciel.

 **707:** but she ate the sandwiches I made with that silly smile of hers and

 **707:** w h y didn’t she take her jacket!!!

 **707:** god im just

 **707:** gonna go

**_707 has logged out._ **

    *

Your mind keeps going back to the chatroom and how Seven must have noticed your absence by now. Also you keep noticing how fucking cold it is. Cold enough to make you swear, which says a lot.

Perhaps he will hate you now, for breaking the promise to stay inside by his side, safe and sound from the hacker, from Seven’s brother.

The thought saddens you, but you think there’s no way for you to remain passive without things going south one way or another. You’d like to stop that, if possible.

Perhaps you think too much of yourself.

You and V take a taxi to the park you suggested, the trip being about twenty minutes long with all the afternoon traffic. The day’s sunny with some clouds overlapping the large orb in the sky, but the wind makes it cold and so V graciously offered you his jacket. He’s got a warm sweater anyway, he justified it.

He looks a lot skinnier without it, you think when you catch glimpses of him beside you in the backseat of the taxi. There’s no hiding the weariness that radiates off him and the paleness that is the direct result of exhaustion and worry.

You don’t want to think of him as someone who knowingly harms people and keeps dangerous secrets from others.

You don’t exchange words during the twenty minutes, but the driver has the radio on so there’s no oppressive silence, at least.

Western music between the more Korean variety makes a strange combination, but it’s better than the music you have on your iPhone. Most of it being something your friends have sent you in the past – Rick Astley’s songs included, which pave way for more 80’s Western music.

You’ve got to send some of that to Seven, if he still wants to be friends later – because, you realize, friendship is what you’re after with the peculiar person called Seven Oh Seven.

You stare at V perhaps longer than you should have, lost in your own world of thoughts, before he notices and turns his gaze to you. With the shades back on, you can’t tell if he’s bemused or amused or just annoyed with you.

Although you don’t think it’s the last one.

Then he smiles, at you and _for_ you, and speaks, “We’ve arrived, it seems.”

The taxi has come to a halt, and the driver gets out to open the door for V as you climb out from your side, wrapping V’s jacket tighter around yourself while fiddling with the worn-out leather.

V pays the driver, insisting that he must since he made you come out in the first place and then you head out into the park by his side. Silence re-emerges like an inexperienced burglar: clumsily and uncomfortably obvious.

“As you know,” V starts as you walk into the park and away from the road, “RFA was founded by Rika and I.”

The sounds of the city seem quieter now, the daylight dimmer, and you shiver despite the warmth V’s jacket envelopes you with.

“I loved her very much, you see, and I was glad she could find a purpose in helping others,” V continues at length, his lips curling into a smile but his voice distant and dry. His eyes don’t look at you, not that you could see them behind those sunglasses.

Rika.

Of course, it all comes back to the person who’s like the elephant in the room no one is willing to address.

You’ve had ambivalent feelings about her thus far – not because of jealousy, but because sometimes the RFA’s reverence of her seemed a bit too much, especially Yoosung’s – but you have brushed those off as petty prejudices.

“The rest of the RFA members have a very bright image of her, I’m sure,” V continues, much more lethargically than before, and his brow wrinkles as his lips purse together in a moment of hesitation. “Rika tried very hard to hide her damaged side from their eyes, very hard. Yoosung, especially.”

“Damaged…?”

V flinches visibly. His next words come out even softer, choked like he can’t breathe them out right, as if his throat refuses him. “She was… depressed. At the very least, it was clinical.”

This isn’t what you expected to hear; it’s the very last thing that you could have guessed to be on V’s agenda of things to tell you about.

“But,” you start. Yoosung always called Rika _bright_ and _happy_ , so—

“Others didn’t know,” V interjects softly, his head turning towards you as he glances at you over the tinted glasses. Both of you walk slower now, the wind’s whistles the only sound besides the crunching of soil under your feet.

“She tried especially hard around Yoosung, since she couldn’t let him down.” V pauses, both his words and his legs, and lifts his head up toward the baby blue sky which the clouds litter. He’s standing at a comfortably distance from you, but you could take his hand and comfort him if you wanted to.

You don’t do that, though.

Instead, you wait and you sit down on a bench, its paint aquamarine like V’s hair. There are no birds singing, because they have probably moved to Africa or somewhere more south by now.

V doesn’t move towards you, but his shoulders hunch in surrender. “I thought she was getting better. I thought the volunteer work and the RFA were helping her deal with the self-destructive mind she had, but… do you know about Sally?”

“Rika’s puppy?”

The photo Yoosung sent you a couple days ago flickers amidst your memories. He had said Rika had cried over her for a long time, hadn’t he?

“Yes,” V’s voice breaks your thought process, “she loved Sally very much, but then Sally died, and… something changed.”

It’s only now that you hear the tremor in V’s voice, that you notice the clenched fist at his side and the other hand holding the cane so tightly its knuckles are turning white.

If you listen closely, you can hear how ragged his breathing has become. Like talking about Rika is a physical exercise that’s too much too soon.

“I should have known better than to think her mental illness… es… had let her go. I should have _noticed_ , should have convinced her to go back to the therapist, should have convinced her to get medicine prescribed to her… but as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty, no?” V’s voice cracks around the syllables in the middle of his short, self-blaming rant, but he doesn’t lose his composure just because of that. An inhale, another following, and his voice is steadier when he continues.

“We had an argument about her idea of saving humanity from fear and pain, and that’s where everything turned from bad to worse, I think. Although it had begun long before that… back when I made a promise that would be impossible to keep.”

“A promise?” you ask now, your voice sounding too quiet to your own ears.

“I…” V turns to you, head hanging low as he doesn’t want to look at your face. Or perhaps he doesn’t want you to see his – you have a feeling he’s the type to keep people from seeing his pain even when it’s been outed. “I told Rika I’d save her. From whatever that was eating her. I told her to rely on me; I said many other things I can’t quite recall now.”

The sunny day is unforgiving to V, and doesn’t do a thing to hide him from your eyes.

“Anyway, Rika and I fought, and things went… not well. Eventually she… left. She was my sun, and she left me, hating me because I didn’t agree with her views on how to _save_ people from the pain this world offers.” V’s losing control over his voice again, and this time you can hear a sob as well as see his shoulders tremble and the hand that’s not clinging to his cane rises to hold his face.

Only you witness his breakdown.

“Mint Eye… was her creation, from there on. She told me about it, because she had started creating it after the second party. Luciel mentioned it before, didn’t he? It’s a religious cult.” V comes to you, his hand away from his face, but his distorted facial expression and his unsteady posture suggest he’s not going to be all right if he continues.

There’s a passerby, but they pay no mind to you and V, who holds his breath patiently until the sound of footsteps fades and moves to a good distance away.

And then he exhales; a wave of air floods out like he’s been holding in for months.

You know he has, now.

“But why is Mint Eye after the RFA?” you ask, glancing around again. There’s no other people, no. There’s no one watching over you, like at the apartment. There’s also no bomb threat hanging over you, like at the apartment. “Why is Seven’s brother—“

“I don’t… know what Rika did to Saeran,” V answers at length, sounding strained. “I heard her disciples mention something about _medicine_ before, but none ever went into details around me. Even when I was playing the role of a fellow disciple. I guess I have an air of untrustworthiness around me…”

This is a lot to take in at once, and you don’t know what to say as you stare up at V and his cracking expression of genuine sorrow that would be enough to incite a reaction out of Jumin, too. You’re sure Jumin would do anything to comfort his friend.

But Jumin’s not here with V. You are.

But you don’t have the words to comfort someone like V – go figure.

“I think—“ V inhales sharply. “I think she wants to convert the RFA into her… group. And others. That’s why Rika had Luciel’s brother attempt to hack into RFA’s classified information on guests…”

V’s voice never rises above the appropriate volume, but he can’t hide the way his syllables quiver and mix up as he breathes thickly and unevenly, like he’s a fish on dry land, dying from both the sun and the strange environment. The red and yellow leaves that fall around him contrast the blue mood he’s in, has been in for a good while now.

Tears prickle at your eyes, too.

“So you—you have been protecting the RFA from her this whole time?”

“And how much good did _that_ do,” V laughs. “There aren’t enough words in my vocabulary to apologize properly. To her and to Jumin and everyone else… but I can’t, I can’t tell anyone about Rika. I can’t.”

“V—V, please sit down,” you ask of him. V always seemed so contained, although distant, in the few chatrooms he appeared in, asides from the one where he mistakenly told Seven to not open the drawer, where the Mint Eye’s early logo lay waiting.

The V Jumin spoke of so fondly – the genius photographer, the leader of the RFA – seems so far away from this sheltered person, who has spilled his heart out to you just now, most likely without the intention to do that.

But you know how it is when it comes to sharing painful things. The flood gates open when one gets the first words out, and then there’s no stopping it.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into my problems,” V says, voice tinted with regret as he follows your request and sits down beside you, his hand tightly clutching at his cane. “I don’t… understand myself right now.”

Leaves continue falling from the trees, shades of yellow and red painting the ground with bright autumn colours.

“You should have told someone before,” you say, taking his free hand into yours and holding it tightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind the act, but V shifts uncomfortably under your touch, his fingers twitching like they want to escape.

Or maybe they miss Rika’s warmth. They _are_ cold, even colder than the wind. You don’t know much about Rika and how she used to be, but looking at V and reading Yoosung’s messages you have realized and realize yet again how important her presence had been to the group.

“You should have told Seven about his brother, at least,” you add, remembering how confused and rattled Seven had been to see Unknown – Saeran. “He thinks you’ve betrayed him, now.”

“I would have had to tell him about Rika, then. And, by extension, the whole group.” V’s lips curl helplessly before they form a grim line, settling into the expression of apathy that his profile picture on the messenger portrays. “I wanted to… solve this on my own. I thought I could… save Rika. And Saeran, by extension, although he seems to hate me now.”

 _Not that it surprises me_ , the look on V’s face says. _I hate myself, too._

“You were afraid they wouldn’t believe you?”

“That, as well,” V admits. The wind plays with the long strands of aquamarine bangs that cascade down one side of his face. “Everyone adored her, and you would be surprised by how usual the _but that person looks too happy to be ill_ -argument is when it comes to mental illnesses.”

He seems to have gathered himself, his voice back to its usual evenness and softness that you heard at the café.

He’s trying to regain the distance between the two of you.

“V, Jumin is literally your childhood friend and has been putting his trust in you this whole time even when things have been rough,” you point out. “You think he would not accept your explanation or take your side?”

V squeezes at your hand, and you squeeze it back as he looks down and contemplates his next words. He thinks so hard you can almost feel the gears shifting inside his head.

“He would,” V says, in the end, with a weary voice but a firm undertone, as if he’s been thinking this way all along. You’re sure he has. “But Rika… was special to him, too. Jumin was lost for a long time, but Rika… could help him. I don’t want to shatter the image Jumin has of her, even now. If it means losing this friendship I have with him… so be it.”

Why is he so bent on making himself miserable?

Oh, there’s one answer to that, and you don’t like it. (You don’t want to ask about the reason behind the scars that you can see around and over his eyes.)

It’s the same answer as the one V has offered you just now – Rika.

“Then why did you choose to tell _me_ the truth now, V?” Surely he can’t care what your opinion of him is. He’s carried all of Yoosung’s hatred of him on his shoulders all this time, after all.

“I don’t want you to be in danger. Although having you walk to the café was a gamble in itself… a gamble I shouldn’t have taken. I’d like to think of this as a chance for you to get away from danger’s way, if possible.” V looks at you over the edges of his glasses, eyes watery but there is also quiet, stern conviction to see things through that scares you. “It’ll be over soon, one way or another, but I thought this would be the best way of handling things. Even if it may seem like I’m manipulating you.”

“You expect me to just… leave, after what you told me?” You stare at him. He stares back, although he squints a little to see you and your expression clearly. “You may be going blind, but you’re not stupid, V.”

“Normal people would,” V says.

“Normal people would also call the police when their partner assaulted them and nearly blinded them,” you point out, and grimace as you see V flinching at your harsh words. “…That’s what I assume you didn’t do, anyway.”

“She wasn’t in the right state of mind, and me arguing against her cause—“

“Don’t do this to yourself, V,” you squeeze at his hand harder, although you know he can’t help himself. It’s easy to see how dependent this man is on the love he once shared with Rika: the way he speaks of her is just one clue amongst several others. “You didn’t deserve it.”

V quiets down. He’s not crying, now, even though he has every reason to cry. He seems very far away now that you’ve brought up his eyes.

It’s as if he still doesn’t quite acknowledge that Rika hurt him.

“Anyhow,” V continues, “I will escort you back to the apartment now that we’re done here. It was wrong of me to pull you away from Luciel’s side, where you want to be the most right now.”

“No,” you interject him just as he’s trying to pull his hand away from yours. “He might need me, but who’s going to take care of you if you leave now?”

V looks at you, eyes wide behind the tinted lenses before they narrow as a smile climbs up his mouth. “You’re… rather strange, aren’t you? Not many would forgive me and even worry for me when their life is in more danger than mine.”

Except that’s not right. You get the feeling that he’s lying to you right now, even though his smile looks genuine and his words reflect his sincere concern for the RFA.

If you let him go now, he’s never going to come back.

“Please, take me with you, V.”

You have always been dangerously naïve.

“Wherever you’re going to go now, I want to make sure you’ll come back. And I can’t take your word for it.”

V rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, lost in thought as he inspects your face: the determined downward curve of your lip, the stern furrow between your brows.

He laughs mirthlessly.

“Ah, I don’t know what to do with you when you say things like that. You sound a bit like Jumin..."

You decide to take that as a compliment.


	2. the first step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't stay in this place, and you can't do nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being like this with my multichaptered fics every single time, but now that V's route is out, I've found my passion to continue this.
> 
> That said, I realize that V's decisions in this fic contrast his motivations in canon and so he is at least partially out of character as his unhealthy feelings for Rika don't blind him to the world around him in this fic as much. That also said, he will have a hard time coping. 
> 
> But this is a fic that was born for self-indulgence and it shall remain so until the very end. (Which is also why I write MC similar to myself, although a lot more active.)
> 
> Thanks in advance, readers!

 

_shake it off but i've lost the drive_

.

.

.

.

His name is Kim Jihyun. You learn this by glancing at his passport, but it’s not like he’s been trying to keep it a secret from anyone.

“V is my artist name, but I’ve been called that for a long time even before I took up professional photography,” he mentions to you when you get through the airport security with him. “It’s… been a long time I have been called anything other than that. Even the personnel at most airports know my artist name.”

“Even _she_ calls you…?”

“We met at one of my exhibitions,” V – or, rather, Jihyun – says with some lingering emotion in his otherwise steady voice. “She never _really_ took to calling me by my, ah… actual name.”

You’re leaving Korea with V. It’s not his idea. It’s yours. You’re making him leave the traces of Rika and the RFA behind, because you know that is what he needs the most. At the same time, you know that as long as you’re with V and away from the apartment, Seven’s brother can’t harm anyone else. Rika’s plan always relied on you to be the catalyst to dragging the RFA into whatever the hell Mint Eye does outside of Rika worship.

The party’s supposed to happen in two days, and you’re at the airport with V, fiddling with your phone as you leave a message on the messenger app for the remaining RFA members to ease their worries as much as possible.

Seven has probably gone mad from worry. You pray for his safety from the agency as well as for his mental health.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” V says as your fingers tap at the touch screen. You don’t need to look to know he’s wearing that distantly anxious expression he’s held onto ever since you two went to pack up for the travelling.  

He cares about people. It always came across to you as _obvious_ , but you’ve seen the way Yoosung acts and… it’s not like that to him, at all. Maybe you’re too nice for your own good, thinking highly of a person that knowingly let you into an apartment armed with a bomb.

But then you remember what he told you before, of his own past and Rika, and you can’t just let it go.

“My mind is set on this, Kim Jihyun,” you tell him, firm with the use of his birth name. You pocket the phone once you’ve written an update for the friends waiting for response, and clutch at the strap of your messenger bag tightly, your sole carry-on to take into the plane. V has a larger bag, since he has his camera equipment with him. Some pieces went to the cargo, but V told you he can’t part with the actual camera for even a moment when he must travel abroad. Who knows, maybe he’ll encounter something magnificent in the plane.

He does have the window seat according to the boarding pass, after all. Somehow you two managed to grab seats next to each other, both which V paid for with his credit card. “You’re doing this for me in the first place,” he insisted.

He doesn’t want to leave, that much is obvious, but he’s not fighting back.

You check you have your documents on the side pocket of your bag. You do, and a sigh stumbles out of your mouth that catches V’s attention.

“Are _you_ all right?” he asks. You can’t see his eyes well through the tinted glass of his shades, but his nose wrinkles in concern for you and that’s more than enough as a hint. You try not to smile; the worry twisting his face is endearing in its authenticity.

Before you can reassure him, V continues, his lips twitching from some feeling, “It’s been quite a ride for you… Are you sure you’d rather not be with Luciel? Or any of the others. Jumin’s penthouse has formidable security.”

You reach the gate for your flight while you try to formulate a response that’s more coherent than a simple _I want to help you, and nothing short of Satan himself will stop me from doing that_. You’re also conscious of the fleeting glances some people throw at you – perhaps recognizing V, perhaps only noticing his peculiar and beautiful mint hair.

“And let you drown in your self-hatred?” you ask in return as you fight with the sense of dread that threatens to sink your stomach. The words are different than your thoughts, but you mean every single one as they slip out. “You have been punished enough already, Kim Jihyun, no matter what anyone else says.”

You look at the cane he supports himself with. Rika did that to him. “You may want to save everyone, but I want to save _you_.”

V’s expression falters, and the grip on his cane tightens. “I fear I’m not worthy of that… not at this point.”

You jab your finger into his side, which startles him into silence. “It’s not up to you decide whether you’re worthy. And it’s not about being worthy in the first place.”

He stares at you for a while. The background chatter fades away from your mind when he looks at you like he’s having trouble comprehending you.

Finally, he gives a small smile. It’s tentative, definitely withdrawn, but there’s relief at the corners of it and that’s more than enough.

For now.

                                                                                                                                *

 

It’s two hours into the fourteen-hour flight (including the layover in Munich) when you realize that _this –_ suddenly taking off and leaving South Korea behind with no clear plan – is probably not the best idea, no matter how far away from Rika V needs to be.

You’ve always been a little too impulsive for your own good – which is one reason you ended up at Rika’s apartment in the first place – but in the past few days you thought you had it under control. So much for _that_ , huh?

Now you’re seated next to the person who you know even less than Seven and the rest, and although that person is a victim in the situation, you don’t feel too good about your life decisions.

But looking at V gazing down at the fluffs of cloud beneath the plane’s wings with a look of enchantment radiant on his face, you can’t help but think everything will be okay. It’s the same intuition that has had you worry about V all this time, so perhaps it’s not wrong to believe in it.

“How much do you—” you begin, but end up biting down on your lip and flushing when he turns towards you. It’s such a dumb question he probably doesn’t need…

“A little from my left eye,” he says, patiently. You don’t recall whether you asked him this before at the café, but it feels like he’s had to answer this question too many times already. “There’s still enough time for the eye surgery Jumin has been suggesting, should I desire to have it.”

He glances down as he speaks, lips twitching mirthlessly with his words. He looks _miserable_ , and your heart swells in sympathy.

Now’s not the time to chastise V or even talk about the events that led to their current situation. Not when there are so many people around both of you,

Still, you take the chance to ask him, “Will you take the surgery?”

V purses his lips, and keeps his gaze down. That’s answer enough for you, but still, he says, his voice trembling with an emotion you have no name for, “I don’t… think I will.”

It’s just another topic you will have to discuss with him later when he looks less fragile and less like he’s exhausted the elixir known as life.

“Okay,” you say instead and gently press your fingers against his arm. “But I’m here for you, V.”

He looks astonished to hear such words from you, and maybe that’s why he tears his gaze away from your hand and looks outside the window on his side. The mint colour of his hair looks brighter than usual with the last light of the day highlighting it.

 

                                                                                                                          *

You have never been on an overnight flight, so your mind refuses to let you sleep as it goes through the events from before all over again even as you try to pay attention to the movie you’re watching. The headphones weigh on your ears uncomfortably much, but you can’t fidget around with them as V has dozed off and is leaning on your shoulder.

He’s taller than you, _much_ taller, so the way his body curls to accommodate for the difference looks extremely uncomfortable. His hair tickles your cheek. His warmth seeps into your upper arm. You’ve forgotten what bodily warmth is after all this time.

The movie on the screen on the back of the seat before you is a fantastical one, setting being medieval European styled like you’re used to seeing. The plot isn’t anything too groundbreaking either: the world needs to be saved, there’s a damsel in distress, and the man dubbed as a hero with a severe case of feelings for the damsel in distress.

The heroine in question – played by Jennifer Lawrence, which already makes you uneasy – acts her role of perfect romantic interest and a capable healer at the same time. She’s got the perfect sunny smile that lights up her face, and of course the hero of the story loves her blindly.

Is there any reason he should love her, you wonder as the two share a meaningful look with each other. For that matter, is there any reason for her to love him? You don’t know, and the scenes with them don’t offer any answer.

“I was meant to love you,” he tells her, “as you were meant to love me.”

“If it is so,” she speaks in return, eyelids fluttering as she tries not to cry, “will you be able to heal my broken heart?”

Hero holds her close, eyes tender as he says, “I’d turn the oceans around for you.”

Jennifer Lawrence’s character gives a strained smile, eyes dark and hooded. “Perhaps I will ask you to do so.”

The soft background music throughout the scene suddenly grows stronger as the characters engage in a staring contest once more. Stormy gray of hero’s eyes versus the brilliant green of the heroine’s.

It is as bizarre as it is contrived.

You stare at the screen and frown at the characters as you consider the desperation that tints the hero’s voice, the hinted problems the heroine has.

Should someone be burdened with someone else’s problems to the point where they would take an impossible task upon themselves?

You’ve been watching Seven and his emotional trauma in the recent past, and you know… you know you can’t take it off his shoulders, that it’s something he must overcome himself while everyone supports him from the sidelines.

Perhaps it’s the way you’ve been raised, but you believe in personal responsibility over their problems. People could make the burden easier, but no one could take it off another’s shoulders completely.

Then again, your mother always criticized you for being _too independent_. “How will you ever find a man that can handle that,” she often said and then wondered why you refused to speak to her for days afterwards.

Watching the movie unfold on the screen makes you bite your lips, a tick you resort to when you’re nervous or deep in thought.

V’s head shifts slightly, and startles you enough to turn your head against his out of reflex. Somehow, your nose digs into his hair. It would be cute, but it _tickles_ so much you immediately return to your previous position while minding V’s sleep.

Jennifer Lawrence’s character on screen really bothers you, but you can’t remember all the reasons now. Damn it, V.  

                                                                                                                             *

You do doze off at some point, near the end of the movie. You miss out on the ending, but you know enough: turns out the heroine was one of the main villains after all, though the hero did his best to persuade her from her chosen path… but to no avail.

In a way it’s tragic: neither character understands what the other needs, and their personal drama gets in the way of the main plot.

As a movie, it’s a poor one – and it can’t hold your interest or conscious even if you feel like some of it applies to the man next to you.

So you fall asleep, and you end up dreaming. Of faces you’ve only ever seen on your screen: Jumin, Jaehee… Zen… Yoosung…

And Seven, but you’ve already seen him in reality. His back turned to you, head hunched low as he worked on for your safety’s sake.

Each of them is saying something, each of them wears their own disappointment. In V. Each of them thinks _Rika would be so disappointed in V if she saw him now._

Yoosung especially: his voice is harsh and unrelenting in your dream and it’s why it descends into a nightmare.

You wake up sweating and your heart stuck in your throat, your surroundings incomprehensible to your senses. For one long moment, you’re only aware of the inexplicable panic in your chest.

Slower than it should be possible, you recognize the press of the top of someone’s head against your cheek and that your headphones have slid askew sometime in your sleep.

At least V looks unperturbed. You exhale softly, and pull out your smartphone from your pocket.

Anxiety returns when you stare at the icon of the messenger app, and you bite your lip as you throw V another sideways glance.

You hope his sleep is peaceful. He looks like he needs all of the sleep he can get.

Welp, here goes nothing…

                                                                                                                                *

_You have logged in._

**Yoosung:**!?!?

 **Jaehee Kang:** This is… a surprise.

 ** _You:_** You read my previous messages, yeah?

 **Jaehee Kang:** I thought you must have been joking… Going abroad with V at a time like this? Are you kidding me?

 ** _You:_** Well… I know it’s a bad timing because of the party and Seven’s brother, but… there’s something I have to do regarding V…

 **Yoosung:** lolol like he’s going to tell you anything??? sorry to say this, but you could literally punch him in the face and he’d still refuse to share anything

 ** _You:_** Yoosung, why… does it sound like you’ve done this before…

 **Jaehee Kang:** _because he has._ I remember it quite well.

 **Yoosung:** hey, I did _not **punch**_ him! there’s a difference between a slap and a punch! and he had it coming…

 ** _You:_** that attitude will take you to prison one day, Yoosung…

 **Yoosung:** i-it’s not like a slap is a crime, right

 **Jaehee Kang:** Excessive violence is going to be reported as an assault. Keep that in mind in future…

 **Yoosung:** yikES _fine_ I’ll save slapping for games from now on

 **Jaehee Kang:** good.

 ** _You:_** um, anyway…

 ** _You:_** I won’t be there for the party, but I’ll do my best to gather more guests for you all while I take care of V.

 **Jaehee Kang:** “take care” of… V…? is there something wrong with him?

(Oh, Jaehee, if only you knew. But it’s not your secret to reveal just yet. Even though, by any logic, you should tell them right now.)

 ** _You:_** he needs… to be away from Korea for a while.

 

In truth, he needs to stay away from Rika, as far as possible, before everything goes down at Mint Eye’s headquarters… before Seven or the rest of the RFA take action…

You think back to the face V wore when he talked about Rika.

It had been so… empty. Lifeless, almost, as far as you could tell.

 

 ** _You:_** just hold the party without me, and have fun. And if Seven goes to look for Saeran… tell him to hold out on that for a few days, at least.

 **Yoosung:**??????

 **Jaehee Kang:** what do you mean…?

_You have logged out._

 

You write an email next – to the only person you think can help with this situation – and try not to think about how much V might hate you for it. Not to mention Seven…

It’s better if they hate you instead, you figure as you stumble over the letters on the touch screen. Perhaps you have much more in common with V than you have ever considered in the past week or so.

_Dear father…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always bothered me that Rika hardly ever used V's real name, but partially it's because Jihyun hid himself behind the artist persona, I think, which was especially... profound around her. 
> 
> In any case, thank you for taking the time to read this, and I apologize for taking this long to continue this.
> 
> (As a side note, and as a light spoiler for V route: Yoosung saying V might have deserved to be blinded really rubs me off the wrong way. Yoosung why.)


End file.
